The Arsonist

The summer of 1968, I was on the verge of leaving the University of Georgia, at the convenience of the University. I made an unsuccessful attempt to bolster my grade point average by taking some summer courses.
My finances and especially my parent's were at an all time low, so I got a job as a garbage man, working for the city of Athens. A number of SDSers and hippies also worked for the sanitation department.
I loved the job! I got to drive old rattle trap trucks all over that beautiful town, full of interesting people. My truck was a doorless flatbed, with dayglo blue peace signs, care of my hippy colleagues. I especially liked to make emergency garbage pick ups at the Baptist Student Union on campus. They felt sorry for me and always had sandwiches, pie, and sweet ice tea. I often played up the part of destitute student to get more goodies.
One part of my job was to haul ashes from the incinerator, on one side of town, to the land fill, across town, out of the city limits. I'd back under the chute of the incinerator and ashes and a spray of water flooded into the truck bed. The spray was meant to put out any left over sparks. I had to drive around the University.\ to get to the land fill.
My boss, Smiley, always complimented me on my driving and efficiency. Smiley was, to this day, the best of bosses. He took care of his people. He was legendary. On heavy garbage days, like water melon rind day, July 5, Smiley rolled up his sleeves on his dress shirt, tucked his tie into his belt and hauled cans with us.
One beautiful summer morning I began my first ash haul. A friend of mine saw me downtown and yelled that my truck was on fire. I looked back to see a huge wad of unburned papers smoldering, then bursting into flame. Apparently the safety features on the incinerator chute had malfunctioned.
Seeing myself as the heroic type, I figured out a way to save the city from conflagration. I cut across the university, to get to the land fill as quickly as possible. Somewhere around married housing I was stopped by three University Police cars, an Athens motorcycle cop, and a man who introduced himself as the University Safety Officer. With the exception of the Athens cop, they all began shouting. I caught a few words, like prison and arson. During the height of the yelling session I asked the Athens cop to radio Smiley. Smiley soon showed up and quietly informed the University folks to talk only to him, not to me. He looked at the truck bed, and the flames had died down some. I tried to tell him why I had chosen the route through the University, but he just told me it was OK. Smiley asked me if I'd be willing to drive to the landfill and dump the load., which is what I did. I never heard another word about the burning truck.
When I look back on my few months at the University, I actually learned little in class, but I learned a lot hauling garbage.